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TheFallenkingRi
He stood on the precipice of oblivion, a dark purple abyss of starry nothingness that seemed to stretch on interminably into the vast tarp of black sky above. The creature beside him turned, his lanky midnight arms waving his arms in undulation as he stared at the hero before him with a concerned glare. He glanced down, his foot hovering over the abyss. He didn't realize it, but he was considerably shaking, an inevitable tremor starting to overtake his nervous system. The world started to waver, shaking and warping in a blurry motion in his vision. He crouched down on the rock he stood on in an attempt to regain his senses. The creature beside him spoke in a language that only the warrior seemed to understand. "Enna tavaru irrukiratu, em atavan." The warrior shook his head. "Nothing. Assemble the ranks." The creature shook his head and shot upwards in a streak of shining indigo. The warrior sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation: he was going to disappear. Angling his leg for maximum velocity, he thrust his arms backwards, closed his eyes tightly enough to see spots waltzing in his vision. and lurched forward into the questioning realm of death, the unknown, and the uncertain. Falling, hurtling, lurching forwards... or backwards? He didn't know what direction he was going, where this abyss would lead him, even the remnants of his name were a fragment of memory that had been suppressed by the noxious combination of adrenaline and uncertainty that bubbled in his stomach. Finally, a light appeared at the end of the archaic tunnel that he seemed to be falling interminably forwards. Thud. His eyes wavered, shutting and opening as his body swayed back and forth as he laid on the dusty ground. The only thing he seemed to have control over was his vision as he took in the scene around him, or what he could make out from his suppressed position on the dirt. Trees, a vivid blue sky, and rocks of variegated sizes surrounded his inert position and he took in the vivid scene with a newfound, insatiable curiosity. He didn't know where he was. He could only assume he had fallen from a considerable height and landed in a new dimension... or area? He wasn't sure where he was, but only knew the scalding pain in his spine from his crooked landing on the dirt as he slowly rose and shuffled forwards towards the pine trees that seemed to shoot upwards into the depths of the wispy white clouds above. His guards were no longer around, his kingdom no longer in sight, only this new and unfamiliar landscape that surrounded him. His arm lurched forward unexpectedly, landing on a block of cracked stone. His fingers traced the crevices in the rock. He had never seen anything of the sort before. A lone midnight purple creature lurched in the distance. Oblivious to the pain that was shooting through his spine upwards towards his neck, he darted towards the figure before yet another part of his fallen kingdom disappeared from his line of sight. The creature turned, a scrutinizing glare overcoming his otherwise empty white pupils. "Tá tú ceart go leor, mo thighearna gcás ina bhfuil na cinn eile?" "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, Dirgel. Are the ranks assembled?" The enderman blinked once, twice. Then, unexpectedly, he floated upwards towards the sky. The warrior sighed, the fact that yet another one of his warriors had left him for a better leader enveloping him whole and plunging him into a sphere of misery and trepidation that only he seemed to be contained in. Black tendrils curled upwards and spread across the violet sky, turning the canvas of once-majestic starry violet into a roof of darkness and mystery that stretched across the expanse of the forest the warrior seemed to be lost in. The tendrils curled and branched out over the sky, shadowy curls of thickened ink corrupting the beauty and majesty of the sky produced by the beauty of nature itself. The inky strands suddenly dipped downwards, soaring closer and closer to the haven of safety that the warrior was so comfortably positioned in. The inky strands looped around and around his position on the dirt, trapping him in a mystery. Voices sounded inside of him, imitating his own. "Come. Join us. You will be safe. You will be our leader. We will set you free." The warrior stood there, unsure of what he was to do. A lanky strand of ink emitted from the creature's body, one that he could only presume was an arm, an extended limb of the creature. The warrior took it, uncertain of what was to happen, not expecting the experience that came next. A chortling sound of wind flooded his ears and nausea flooded his stomach, as he wrapped his arms around his frame, willing himself not to emit the contents of his dinner the previous night all over the expanse of the warping tunnel he was contained in. The sharp whistle of air flooded his senses and all he could feel was an icy coldness that seemed to intensify. He grew colder, colder, colder. And then. in a rush and expanse of light and shadow and air, he was back on solid ground... if he could even call what he was standing on solid ground. The warrior was knee-deep in black goo, an oil that spread upwards towards his legs, his chest, his elbows, until every inch of his narrow, muscular frame was covered in a oily midnight liquid that thickened around him, consuming every inch of him completely. He imbibed the scene around him. He took in the mass of lanky black creatures that swayed back and forth in the cold breeze, the spire of craggy rock that seemed to stretch out in every direction from the safety of the tower they appeared to be contained in. The creatures that swayed back and forth around him, their beady eyes all intently on him, their lanky arms by their side and waving in the slight wind. "Save us. Help us, my lord. Recapture our kingdom. Rekindle our spirits." The voices spoke in unison. cold, raspy, and hoarse voices that sent a sharp chill throughout his body, causing goosebumps to pierce his extended limbs. He finally broke the aura of amazement that seemed to envelope him and took a step forward, the creatures all parting the way for him in a clear path to a stone pedestal illuminated by a dim violet glow. The weapon mounted was a sword not seen by anyone before, its make unmatched by any weapons before it. The hilt extended upwards, covered in jagged fractals of emerald crystal that branched out in different directions, the blade itself covered in the same midnight oil that enveloped his guards, dripping onto the stone floor below. It pulsed, emitting an intense spring aura. He reached forward, a gloved hand running its way down the oily hilt. Was it impulse, a desire to lead, a burning heroism inside him? He didn't know what it was, what prompted the action that would occur, but fingers curled around the hilt and yanked upwards in a fit of mustered strength and courage. It slid upwards surprisingly easily and the warrior stared at it in his palm. the same vibrating green aura pulsing from its metal body. The oily creatures before him swayed back and forth, and sunk downwards in a low bow simultaneously. A clear sentence rang out in his mind, all spoken at once by the submitting warriors. "All hail the Fallen King Ri. Our savior, our master. He has come forward from the great depths of the Overworked into our once-mysterious realm. All hail Ri. All hail our new king." The warrior's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the facts presented. He had been accepted by these creatures as their king. He was the fallen warrior. Reality seemed to slap him in the face like a stinging pinch of the situation at hand. Only one instinct overcame him. He lurched the sword up above him, the emerald aura radiating intensely above him. A burning sensation lurched forward in his palm, and he looked at the burned flesh that had burned a message into his skin, a mystery that would have to await for another time, the possible reason his legacy had arisen: the singular letters SB, a pattern of initials that the man couldn't seem to recollect from his memory, stared him in the face in a collection of charred flesh and droplets of blood. The mystery that awaited him seemed insignificant to the facts at present. Was he the connection to the legend that had been awaiting him? He was unsure about it, unsure about everything except the simple facts that pounded in his head like a bomb waiting to explode. He was the broken warrior. He was the lost hero begun anew. He was the FallenKingRi and he realized as the sword above him pulsed that intense emerald green light around him and shone in the faces of the knelt warriors below him, he would be the hero that would unite this mysterious land. He was TheFallenKingRi and he would no longer be forgotten.